


this is a very old story.

by sshyksarry



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Canon Divergent, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Gore, Memories, Outer Space, Post S4 ?, Post-War, Reconciliation, Time Skips, completely ignores s5 im sorry :(, or post s3?, some world building but she ra sucks 4 that, um pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24913171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sshyksarry/pseuds/sshyksarry
Summary: Years after the wars end, Adora returns to The Fright Zone.There, the buildings are hollowed out and the land dilapidated. Scrap metal and broken down horde bots are scattered across it, from the eastern border to the western, and fat wads of smoke puff proudly from every burning inch of it.Adora can no longer recognize it.She breathes out, heavy both through her nose and mouth. She pulls her sword from its scabbard and holds it in front of her. She steadies her hands and closes her eyes.Below her, there’s nothing, above her, there’s everything.-Catra and Adora, alone and together, after the war.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 96





	1. 1. i burned so long and so quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> playlist to listen to: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0uCLs081qSKTRzfOaJLnU6?si=YY8GaCylTQ2zdVbPWjfBaQ

**well, i've been afraid of changing**

**cause i've built my life around you**

**but time makes you bolder**

**even children get older**

**and i'm getting older, too**

**landslide, fleetwood mac**

**someone has to leave first. this is a very old story. there is no other version of this story.**

**two poems, richard siken.**

_In a simulation, Light Hope kneels before her; her hand up and palm open, she says, “You have suffered great loss, but you cannot let it stop you.”_

_Adora frowns. She raises her hand to meet Light Hopes. “But what if I can’t control it?” The place that their palms touch bursts with static. It hurts. “The loss.”_

_Light Hope stands, but Adora stays kneeling. Light Hope brings her fingers to Adora’s chin and lifts her head up, though her fingers are cold, Adora does not flinch. She does not look away. “You must,” Light Hope says, “You are She-Ra.”_

_“What if,” Adora stops and passes her hand over her sword, it’s hilt; it’s heart. “What if I don’t want to be?”_

_Light Hope looms. “You must,” she says, “It is your destiny.”_

  
  
**PART I**

Of all seven kingdoms, Brightmoon is the first to announce celebrations following The Horde’s fall. Adora - _She-Ra_ -, is present for it’s first, but not it’s last. 

Bow comes to her side. “How are you feeling?” 

“Fine.” 

“So,” he shifts from foot to foot. He’s dressed accordingly, but still with his midriff showing. “Is there a reason you aren’t with the rest of us?” 

Adora looks out at the dance floor and swallows. Glimmers to the left of her, talking with Perfuma, who’s brought along Scorpia, who’s brought along...Catra. Adora bites her tongue. “I just need a minute,” she says, “Seahawks a bit…”

“Drunk?” 

Adora hides a smile. Seahawk’s been bugging her all night, singing sea shanties about Mermista. She’s only just lost him. 

“Mermista’s hiding from him, you know,” Bow says, pointing towards the castle, which, even now, stands tall; unblemished despite years of warfare. “I would be too.” 

Adora laughs. Beyond the dancefloor, she notices Glimmer, dressed head to toe in purple with a tiara placed more than delicately on the top of her head. On her left arm sits a silver band; on her right a gold one. She starts to make her way over. 

“Hey,” she says, snatching Bow’s drink from his hands and chugging it. Her face scrunches up after, much to Bow’s chagrin. “Is this apple juice?”

“Yes,” Bow grapples for the cup, but Glimmer maneuvers around him until her gives up. “And it was mine.”

Glimmer shrugs, “Snooze you lose,” she says, and looks to Adora, “Hey, your turn, come dance with me.” 

Adora frowns and looks out at the crowd. Under the fluorescents, the dance floor flashes and shines, blinded even by the moonstones glow. She bites her lip, “uh, thanks Glimmer, but I’d rather not.” 

Glimmer grumbles. “Bow,” she says, “Come dance with me.” 

Bow looks at Adora and back at Glimmer. He scrunches his face up, but takes Glimmers hand anyway. The two of them disappear into the crowd, but Adora faintly makes out the sound of Bows shrieking and Glimmers subsequent apology for stepping on his foot. 

A breeze. 

“They look like they’re having fun.”

Adora straightens and turns. Behind her, Catra stands, mouth set tight. She wears leather, tonight, black pants and a jacket tied taut around her waist. She looks nice. Effortlessly so. 

“They are,” she says, taking a sip of her own complimentary apple juice. Bow had gotten her some earlier. 

“Why aren’t you with them?” Catra asks and Adora shrugs and tips her cup back and drinks the last few drops of her drink. Catra watches her. 

“Why aren’t you with Scorpia?” Adora ventures, “Isn’t she your plus one?” 

Catra shakes her head. “Perfuma is, see,” she points and Adora looks; Scorpia dancing with Perfuma, her head tossed back, a flurry of white and blonde hair across the dance floor. Adora almost smiles. “I’m third wheeling,” Catra goes on, “Looks like you are too.” 

Adora wipes the back of her hand across her mouth. “I guess I am,” she says and puts her drink down on a wobbly and almost-entirely-covered-in cups table nearby. She doesn’t bother to pick up another. She passes her palms over her pants and then holds them out to Catra. 

Catra looks at them and frowns. “What?”

“Dance with me,” Adora says.

Catra hovers, unsteady; silent. Adora waits for her. Behind them, the music drones. 

Catra takes her hand. 

_“Stand,” Light Hope says._

_Adora struggles and holds her hand to her stomach. Between her fingers thickly seeps black red brown blood and under her tongue she tastes it, too, the slickness of it over her teeth. “I can’t.”_

_“You can.”_

_Adora shakes her head. “I can’t.”_

_“You must.”_

_Adora breathes but it comes out a stutter. Blood falls from her mouth. She wipes it away._

_“Please don’t make me.”_

_“Stand.”_

_Adora’s vision undulates. Her palms itch. At the centre of her chest, she feels the sword._

_“Stand.”_

_At the centre of her chest, the sword - it’s hilt and heart - burns._

_“She-Ra.”_

_Adora touches it. She pulls it free._

_“Stand.”_

_She-Ra stands._

_Adora falls._

_Adora visits Plumeria in her seventh spring away, when the cherry blossoms are blooming and the fields are thick, heavy with wheat and corn stalks._

_Perfuma is the only person there to greet her._

_“You look different,” she says over dinner, when things have settled down and Adora is warm and rested._

_Adora fumbles. She wipes her sleeve across her mouth. “You look the same.” she isn’t lying; Perfuma has changed too little for Adora to pick out the parts of her that are different. Maybe, the scar lining the edge of her jaw, or, the new tilt of her smile, but nothing significant. Nothing tangible._

_Perfuma considers her for a moment, hovering both near and far from her seat opposite Adora. Eventually, she sits and places her hands on top of Adora’s. “How have you been?” she asks, “Where are you headed?”_

_Adora pulls at her lower lip. “I’m not sure,” she says, twisting her spoon between her thumb and forefinger. It’s light shines off of the glass shard she wears around her neck._

_Perfuma considers her for a moment, hovering near and far from her seat. Eventually, she sits down, and places her hands on top of Adora’s. They’re warm to the touch._

_“Adora,” she says, “The war is over,” she pauses, continues, “The Horde is gone. You should go home. To Brightmoon.”_

_Outside, the moons shine bright white in an eternal eclipse. Adora wonders, for a second, what that’s like, holding something for what you think is a moment, and then forgetting to let go._

_She breathes out through her mouth. “I’m think I’m good,” she says._

_Perfuma inclines her head towards Adora, tilts her chin up with the tips of her fingers. It’s gentle touch. Adora’s missed it. “Please go home,” she says, “they’ve missed you.”_

_Adora shakes her head. “I can’t,” she says. “I’m sorry.”_

“You’re a horrible dancer.” 

Adora huffs. She spins Catra a little, to the left. Their feet bump and shuffle and Catra rolls her eyes at her. “So are you,” Adora says.

Catra tilts her head and flashes her teeth; all shark-like. “Now that’s a lie.” 

Adora looks away from her. She is sure to be obvious about it. 

Catra doesn’t take the bait. She holds Adora’s hand tighter. 

Up close, Catra is kind; in her eyes, and the tilt of her mouth. She guides Adora slowly, and only deliberately steps on her feet a few times. She squeezes Adora’s hand on the agreement they’ve always had; _no claws? No claws._

“You’re better than you were last time,” Catra says. Her teeth shine and wink in the blue light. 

“Am I?” 

Catra nods, “Yes,” she says, “much better.” 

Adora bites her lip, she moves, slowly, together, and then apart once more, like a rubber band; insistent they are, to snap back, again and again. 

“Why did you come here?” 

Catra looks at her. Adora wants to touch her. 

“Scorpia,” she says, “she wanted me to come,” and, “you know that. I’m third wheeling, remember?” 

“I remember,” Adora says. “How is she?”

“Who?” 

“Scorpia.” 

Catra sighs. “Do we have to talk about this?”

Adora’s mouth curls. “Is there something you’d rather be talking about?” 

The sound of the dance floor. 

“Scorpia’s good,” Catra continues, “Or as good as she can be. Perfumas taking care of her.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Who’s taking care of you?” 

The sound of the dance floor. Catra holds tighter to Adora’s hand, and Adora lets her, (she knows), she lets Catra spin her and lets what sits between them breathe, for just a moment. She lets their parts snap together and back again. She lets it hurt. She always knew it would. 

The sound of the dance floor. Catra speaks. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” she says, “And I’m not coming back.” 

Adora’s throat burns. 

Catra looks at her, the same as she always has. But, it means nothing. Adora can wish it meant something all she wants, but it doesn’t. It won’t. She couldn’t make it mean anything, even if she tried. She ruined it when she left. There was something between them, and now she’ll never know what it was. 

Catra drops her hand. It means nothing. 

  
  


_Years after the wars end, Adora returns to The Fright Zone._

_There, the buildings are hollowed out and the land dilapidated. Scrap metal and broken down horde bots are scattered across it, from the eastern border to the western, and fat wads of smoke puff proudly from every burning inch of it._

_Adora can no longer recognize it._

_She breathes out, heavy both through her nose and mouth. She pulls her sword from its scabbard and holds it in front of her. She steadies her hands and closes her eyes._

_Below her, there’s nothing, above her, there’s everything._

_She lets go._


	2. 2. you must have wondered if i loved you back.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometime before all Adora remembers is war, she tells Catra that stars are like lights. 
> 
> “Lights?” 
> 
> Adora nods, “Lights,” she says and shifts so that their knees brush. “But they’re gone now.”
> 
> Catra blinks up at her. Her eyes are gold and blue. “Where’d they go?”
> 
> Adora scrunches her nose up. She pulls Catra’s hand from her chest and wraps it up in her own. It fits. “They didn’t go,” she says, eventually, when she knows it doesn’t matter anymore. “We did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a really really slow writer! xo 
> 
> playlist to listen to (updated!!!): https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0uCLs081qSKTRzfOaJLnU6?si=UnJswqA_QNC9Xlvgn8j4aw

> **think of someone you want to touch whom you cannot touch, someone forbidden. think of a room where there is nothing except the two of you: still, you cannot touch them.**
> 
> **think of the heat between two hands about to touch, the language that exists in that silence.**
> 
> **chelsea hodson, tonight i’m someone else.**
> 
> **i love you, i do, but i am afraid of making that love too important. because you’re always going to leave me. we can’t deny it. you’re always going to leave.**
> 
> **david leviathan.**

**PART II**

_ Sometime before all Adora remembers is war, she tells Catra that stars are like lights.  _

_ “Lights?”  _

_ Adora nods, “Lights,” she says and shifts so that their knees brush. “But they’re gone now.” _

_ Catra blinks up at her. Her eyes are gold and blue. “Where’d they go?” _

_ Adora scrunches her nose up. She pulls Catra’s hand from her chest and wraps it up in her own. It fits. “They didn’t go,” she says, eventually, when she knows it doesn’t matter anymore. “We did.” _

Catra is not there when they come back. 

When she’s young, Adora doesn’t dream. She sleeps happily through the night and only wakes the few times that Catra does to whisper whistle secrets back and forth. 

When she’s old, old enough to take note of blips in her appearance and memory, she does, but only of Catra.

Adora wakes just as the sky starts to bleed. She washes her face. She eats half an apple and double knots her shoe laces. She checks her map.Sprawled out on the ground, it crinkles at the sides. It’s old, dating back a few hundred years, maybe more? Adora bites her mouth and traces the red line scribbled across it. 

Etheria is huge. She’s always known it to be, and has explored enough of it to state it as simple  _ fact _ . Between seven kingdoms and a plethora of free, empty land, it spans much larger than Adora was ever taught in The Horde.

On the edge of the map, a little seaside town, encircled in red. Adora traces her thumb over her mouth and then it, and aches. She looks up at the sky, the birds sitting in the trees, and waits for it to go away. 

It doesn’t. 

She puts the map away. She stands. She walks for a very long time, until the moons glow passes from just below her shoulders to high above the tree line, until it sits as a single solid coin in the sky. She measures its hour. She walks some more.

Despite times touch, The Whispering Woods sit the same as Adora remembers when she makes her way back to them. The trees tower over her, and the grass brushes her legs kindly as if to say oh, hello, welcome home. Foliage grows across stone ruins scattered through and animals crawl and make nests in the earth, soft underfoot. 

Adora walks through it until she reaches The Crystal Castle, where, even outside, it is dark and cold. Like a shawl, it spreads itself across the land, masking it black and blue. Adora rubs her hands together and breathes slowly into them. They warm, but only momentarily. 

She goes on. 

Like The Fright Zone, The Crystal Castle sits as a second stomach in Etheria’s body. It’s deep and difficult to traverse. Walking through it, Adora grows colder. She passes simulation rooms and empty chasms. 

She-Ra sits as a forgotten monument in all of them. Adora feels every statues eyes crawl like wax over her skin. 

She doesn’t look at her. 

She goes on. 

Light Hope isn’t there when Adora enters her control room. She doesn’t stagger, stutter, flicker to life. When Adora enters, the room brightens, but only for a moment. She remembers this. Giant panels scale up and down the walls of the room, each flashing their own set of different little lights. Bits and pieces of them are strewn across the room in haphazard piles and Adora is careful not to step on them. 

At the centre of the room, sits a panel, evidently not broken. Adora approaches it. She touches it, feels the familiar static of it puff against her palm and waits and knows, knows nothing will happen but wills it to anyway. 

“Light Hope?”

There is no response. She is not there. 

_ In a nightmare; Catra.  _

_ She faces away from Adora. Her hair is sheared short and curly at the nape of her neck. She stands, iridescent in the light of the stars overhead them. She’s smiling, just a little.  _

Adora what have you done. 

_ Adora wants to pull her close, like she used to, when it was easier, when, beside her, Catra was just Catra and she was just Adora. Adora wants to pull Catra close. She wants and wants and wants and she can’t fit it all inside. She tries but it comes out anyway. _

Adora what have you done. 

_ She stays away from her. Like always, Catra does too.  _

_ Beyond their bodies; light.  _

After The Crystal Castle, summer comes quickly. Without a horse, Adora is slow to travel. She knows now that she’s older, with all of her aches smoothed over into skin and bone, that Etheria doesn’t need her any more. And maybe, even, never needed her in the first place. 

Adora closes her eyes. That one hurts still. 

Adora doesn’t stay in the towns she passes on her way. She sleeps and eats and skirts the backbones of the forests and fields that surround them. She buys food and clothes from travelling merchants and doesn’t stay in one place for long, keeps going. 

When it’s late, when it’s quiet, when she’s alone, she lies under the stars, and counts them. All on her own, which is a feat, in and of itself. But they’re so, so bright and they shimmer sparkle shiver in the sky if she looks close enough and they remind her of things she might have otherwise forgotten and she gets distracted and loses count and falls asleep, anyway. 

She tells herself it’s enough to think something is there, than to be sure it is. 

_ Adora finds Catra high up in The Fright Zone, where the sky swells green and red, a whole underbelly of light. “Catra.” _

_ Catra’s ears twitch, but she doesn’t turn to look at her.  _

_ Adora sighs and wipes her hand back across the sweat gathering on her forehead, neck and chest. It’s hot out; midsummer. She should be indoors, where it’s cooler.  _

_ “What are you doing up here?” Catra looks small, coiled up tight against the railing. Her tail slowly swishes back and forth.  _

_ Adora licks her lips. “I came to find you,” she says.  _

_ “Okay, and, you found me, now go away.” _

_ Adora doesn’t say anything. She bites her mouth; mulls the situation over, and then approaches Catra, slowly.  _

_ Catra doesn’t flinch or hiss or even swipe at her when Adora sits down next to her. But she doesn’t move closer, either. She doesn’t rest her head on Adora’s shoulder and lean in and smile. She looks out, instead, to the smoke gathering beyond them. The fires of The Fright Zone.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Adora says.  _

_ Catra shoves her face into her knees, a lifelong habit. “For what? You didn’t do anything.” _

_ Adora bites her tongue. She wants to touch her. “I know.” _

_ “Why didn’t you do anything?”  _

_ “I don’t know.”  _

_ Catra stays quiet. Adora wishes she knew how to touch her, without making one of them hurt.  _

_ “I brought you food.” _

_ “Thanks.”  _

_ “Did you want the grey?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ Adora passes it over and slowly, Catra unravels. She still doesn’t lean against Adora, but it’s enough that she’s sitting straight. They eat in silence; an agreement not to touch what shouldn’t be touched sitting between them.  _

_ The moons glare down. _

_ “Adora,” Catra says, some time later, when the last of the sky is prickling into black oil, clean and slick over The Fright Zone’s sky.  _

_ Adora listens, and waits.  _

_ “Did you mean it?”  _

_ “Mean what?”  _

_ Catra looks at her. Her eyes are golden and cerulean blue. Her cheek is circled purple. “When you said you’d leave with me, if I asked,” she says, “when you promised. Did you mean it?”  _

_ Adora’s chest hurts. Catra looks at her. Her face is soft, but sad. Adora thinks maybe Catra’s been sad their whole lives and she’s only just begun to notice. She thinks maybe that means something she doesn’t yet want to know. _

_ She wishes that, somehow, it mattered. That, against the great expanse of the universe, they were worth anything at all. She wishes that going to bed at night and feeling Catra’s breath warm and puffy like static against her neck mattered at all.  _

_ But it doesn’t, and it won’t ever.  _

_ “I don’t know.”  _

_ Catra looks away from her. The moon, a reflection in her eyes.  _

It’s hot. Adora scrubs her hand down her face, but the feeling stays. The land before her is wet-dry and lurid in colour, and cloys the saliva in her mouth to a thick paste. She licks her lips. She takes a deep breath and unclenches her fists. 

She has to remind herself. Again and again. She stares right ahead, at the horizon, which quivers, a long wizened tongue. She has to remind herself. 

_ Adora what have we done. _

She squashes it. She tears it out. She walks. She doesn’t look back. 

_ Scorpia and Perfuma are the first of Adora’s friends to marry.  _

_ Catra, surprisingly, is there.  _

_ “Adora,” Glimmer says over the noise, “I’m hungry.”  _

_ Adora rolls her eyes and reaches across the table they’re sat at. It’s big, round and has a nice polished surface but little food you’d find at Brightmoon. “Here,” she says and passes Glimmer a strange looking fruit. “Eat.” _

_ Glimmer takes it and sniffs it. “Oh,” she says after a small bite, “this is good. What is this?” _

_ “I don’t know.”  _

_ Glimmer makes a face and pokes her tongue out between her teeth. Adora rolls her eyes again, “Don’t be rude.” _

_ Glimmer slouches, “Why not?” she says dryly, “it’s not like Perfuma likes me  _ anyway _.” _

_ Adora gives her a look, “She  _ does _ like you,” she says, snatching a napkin from it’s holder and passing it over.  _

_ “She didn’t  _ invite _ me.” _

_ “She  _ forgot _.” _

_ “I’m the queen of Brightmoon,” Glimmer hawks and folds the napkin into a ball and hands it over after stuffing the fruit inside. Adora tosses it. “How do you forget to invite the queen of Brightmoon who, - by the way  _ Perfuma _ \- led the  _ rebellion _ , to your wedding!”  _

_ Adora bites her tongue. “She invited a lot of people,” she gestures out at the crowd, “I don’t think she would’ve not invited you on purpose.” _

_ Glimmer huffs again.  _

_ Adora bites her tongue harder and decides to change the subject. “Where did Bow go?” _

_ Glimmer sits up straighter. “He went to find Seahawk,” she replies, “I couldn’t stop them from doing that stupid song.” _

_ “Oh god.” _

_ “Apparently Mermista’s leaving early because of it,” Glimmer adds as an afterthought, smoothing out the hem of her dress. “She doesn’t want to watch.” _

_ Adora takes a sip of her water. “Can we go early too?” _

_ Glimmer sighs, “No. I told Perfuma we’d stay the night.”  _

_ Adora squints. “I thought you were mad at her.” _

_ Glimmer grumbles. “Well I wanted to say no but you know how she is,” That’s true, “If I’d said no she’d never let us forget it. It’s her wedding day. And she seemed upset that Mermista wasn’t staying so I figured we could.”  _

_ Adora doesn’t respond. She toys with her fork.  _

_ “You know,” Glimmer says, “I doubt they’ll be broken up for long.” _

_ Adora scrunches her face up, “Perfuma and Mermista? But Perfuma just got married.” _

_ Glimmer gives her a confusing look. “Seahawk and Mermista,” she says and pokes her unkindly, “It’s been six months, they’ve never made it past seven - wait Perfuma and Mermista dated?”  _

_ Adora closes her mouth. She bites her tongue.  _

_ “Adora.” _

_ “You didn’t hear it from me,” she says.  _

_ “Glimmer, oh, Adora,” Perfuma calls over to them, making her way past a few people dressed in classic Plumerian pink. “It’s so wonderful that you could come!” She says and, “How are you? Do you like the food?” _

_ Glimmer blanches. “The foods good.” _

_ “It’s very good,” Adora agrees.  _

_ “Oh I’m so glad to hear that!” Perfuma says and sits and rests her hands on top of Adora’s. They’re warm and small and the fourth middle finger on each hold a single black band. “I’m so happy you’re here Adora.”  _

_ Adora frowns. “Why’s that?” _

_ Perfuma makes a face. Glimmer groans and rubs at her forehead. Adora looks between the two of them, feeling all of a sudden very small, “Glim?” _

_ Glimmers mouth falls to a straight line, “Catra’s here,” she says and, after, when Adora’s already looked away, “We didn’t want to tell you.”  _

_ Adora swallows. “Why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” _

_ “Adora…” _

_ “Where is she?” Adora says, standing, back straight, hands flat against her legs.  _

_ “Adora, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” _

_ Adora doesn’t listen. She leaves. _

The entrance to Mara’s ship opens as a cold stomach. Dark. Empty. The walls glisten and shimmer and shake and distort as she walks through it. It reminds her of The Crystal Castle and all it’s hidden truths. 

Adora recognises the ship in parts; little flashes of memory she can barely piece together. She hasn’t been here in over ten years. 

The memory of Mara’s figure, her shoulders strong and solid and her face hard, miserable, sticks out in her mind, still, even now, with all that time and space between who she is and who she used to be. 

The main room when she reaches it is as cold as Light Hope’s control room. It glares down at her, blue and purple and devastating. Adora’s breath stutters to nothing in her throat. She reaches for her sword, but there’s nothing there.

She approaches the control panel. When she runs her hand over it, it doesn’t light up. Like Light Hope, it doesn’t flicker stutter stammer to life. It stays quiet. It drones quiet. 

Adora sits, slowly, in Mara’s chair. She feels her arms and her legs and her feet and her whole entire body. But she doesn’t transform. 

She sits. And she waits and she looks to the sky and realizes. She takes a deep breath. 

Mara’s voice rings overhead. I Never Wanted To Be A Hero. 

Adora stands. She turns. She doesn’t look back. 

_ Adora finds Catra high up in the castle. It’s not easy, but she’s learned the tell-tale signs of her presence in any room. She sits perched like a bird on the balcony of an empty dining room.  _

_ Adora swallows, her heart more a stone in her throat than an organ. “Catra,” she says and stays still and barely, barely breathes, “What are you doing here?”  _

_ Catra’s tail swoops down and up again like fish underwater. “Scorpia asked me to come.” _

_ Adora’s throat itches. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.” _

I didn’t think you would come back. 

_ Catra shrugs and turns and her face is the same as it’s always been, cheeky with her teeth sharp and glinting in the moonlight. “Neither did I.”  _

_ Adora approaches her. Catra doesn’t bite, at least, not this version of her. Maybe, years ago, when they were younger and less tired of this - all of this - they would’ve resorted to such measures. Maybe Adora would’ve made the first move. Maybe Adora would’ve taken advantage right away and pushed Catra off the balcony before she even had a chance to breathe.  _

_ “Do you miss her?” _

_ “Not anymore.”  _

_ “What about The Horde,” Adora goes on, tip toeing into dark waters. “Do you miss it?”  _

_ “Sometimes,” says Catra, “Do you?” _

_ “Sometimes.” She should end it there. “Do you miss me?”  _

_ Catra looks to her. Like this, her face is full; gentle. With all of her aches sheared off, smoothed out, she’s happier. Adora knows she is.  _

_ “Not like I used to,” She pauses, “Do you miss me?”  _

_ “I don’t know,” Adora says.  _

_ And she should end it there. But they don’t. Catra looks at her, the same as she always has and Adora kisses her and Catra kisses back. _

_ It’s not slow, not like their first kiss was. It’s feverish, a spool of hot sun rushing out over them. Adora cups Catra’s face in her hands, digs the pucker of her thumbs into her cheeks and presses against her like maybe if she can get near close enough to fit inside her they’ll cage in; entangle like the trees that do, branches over each others, limbs across limbs and a shared stomach; a shared heart. Catra’s hands squeeze Adora’s shoulders and their knees bump, their noses brush and Catra pulls away and says, “I have to leave.” _

_ “I know.” _

_ Catra shakes her head, “I can’t stay.” Unspoken; you know.  _ You Know. 

_Adora closes her mouth. “I know.” And she does._ She Does. 

_ It isn’t nice, in the end. Adora thinks maybe it’s not meant to be. Maybe they aren’t meant for things like this.  _

_ In the end, Catra leaves.  _

_ She was always going to.  _

_ Adora leaves Brightmoon the summer after. Bow and Glimmer are there, in her bedroom, their arms entangled and faces plaques encased in stone. Waiting. Watching.  _

_ “How long will you be gone?” _

_ Adora scrubs her palm down her face. She doesn’t say anything, not for a while. Bow comes to her side. “Adora?” _

_ She breathes. It comes out harsher than she wants. “I just think it would be good,” she says, “To get away. For a little while.” _

_ Glimmer rubs her shoulder. Her face has lines in it, now. Little wrinkles and signs of laughter; signs of love. “I know.” _

_ “You won’t hate me?” _

_ Bow shakes his head, “I couldn’t.” _

_ “ _ We _ couldn’t,” Glimmer adds and puts her hand on top of Bow’s. “Not ever.”  _

_ Adora doesn’t cry. “I’ll come back,” she says, “I promise.”  _

_ They hug her. Adora doesn’t cry.  _

The town is small, but bigger than she remembers it to be. It’s nestled comfortably and quietly into a clamor of rocks and trees and sea. It smells like salt and fir trees.

Adora arrives come the sprawl of morning. It spreads itself a bright orange shawl across the sky and slowly swallows all the stars until there’s just the morning moon, hung high and smiling down on her. She tracks her way through the town and watches it’s people start their day off. She doesn’t linger where she knows she’s not wanted. 

She takes a deep breath. She has to remind herself, like a curse or something equally as terrible. She is not She-Ra anymore. 

On the edge of town sits a big brown house with a chimney thick like a tree and just as tall. Smoke puffs out of it like spittle and flowers line the edge of the hill it’s stooped on. On the porch, there’s a single pair of shoes, and a mailbowl with a flower crushed into dust at the bottom of it.

At the door, Adora doesn’t ache. Her heart doesn’t thud or crawl to her throat. When she rubs her hand over her chest, it’s not to make sure it’s still there. 

At the door, Adora raises her hand, and knocks. 

_ There’s fire. Hot fire. It creeps up Adora’s spine and settles on her shoulders and burns and screams in her ears. Beside her, Catra’s mouth is bleeding.  _

_ Adora’s isn’t.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it. She swears to herself that she does. She hopes that she does. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you.” _

_ Catra’s voice is a harsh whisper, “I never expected you to.”  _

_ Adora wants to touch her. She wants to pull Catra closer than she could ever be she doesn’t want to live alone in her body anymore, “I know.” _

_ “I’m sorry, too,” Catra says. And means it.  _

_ “I know.” Adora doesn’t touch her. “I forgive you.”  _

_ Adora doesn't touch her.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u 4 reading kudos and comments r GOOD i like them lots 
> 
> places 2 find me:   
> tumblr: cirillafionaelenriannon  
> twitter: sshyksarry

**Author's Note:**

> thank u 4 reading ! :-) catradora canon! 
> 
> tumblr: cirillafionaelenriannon  
> twitter: sshyksarry


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